Darkness
by Anibelli
Summary: When tragedy strikes, Marinette is haunted by the past, and struggling to stay away from the darkness. The darkness that wants to consume her. Two-shot. Suicide/heavy gore mentions.
1. Chapter 1

Darkness.

That was all she could see. Darkness that stretched for miles on end. It enveloped her, seeping under her skin and chilling her blood. The black spotted suit on her skin, one that provided protection and grounding did nothing, was unable to aid her as the relentless cold peppered her skin. The air reeked with the scent of freezing metal, so strong it reached her tongue, and she was unable to stop the taste of iron that so sinisterly remind her of blood. Her mouth filled with the taste, then filled the real thing. Blood crept up her throat, filling her lungs and causing her breathing to falter. She attempted to open her mouth, but her lips were sealed, feeling hot as if they were taken to the nearest sautering iron and burned to a close.

A loud, piercing sound bombarded her ears, and her mouth separated, blood pouring out and splattering to the ground. A ground that appeared familiar. She slowly turned her head to her left, seeing large gash marks left on the ground. Broken shackles lie in the middle of them, crumbling slowly into dust that a nonexistent wind scattered. As she looked onwards, the darkness parted, just enough for her to see the large chunks of bleeding flesh make its way to an almost unrecognizable corpse. A ring, previously silver, now deteriorating before her eyes, lay on a disfigured hand.

She opened her mouth to scream, to call to the body, to make any semblance of a noise, but all she was able to do was cough up more blood, attempting to empty her always full lungs. The blood gurgled out of her mouth, and the tears started. They started and didn't stop, mixing with the blood and creating something diabolical as images shifted in the red fluid now coating the ground.

Hair, golden and perfectly messy, turning red with blood and limp, like the dead cells they were. A perfect jawline on glowing tan skin, becoming beaten and bruised and unshappen. Teeth, blindingly white and straight, falling out as the mouth filled with blood. The lean muscular figure, broken and red and unrecognizable. The eyes, green with enchanting slit pupils, lifeless and dead, disappearing beneath leather covered eyelids.

A scream perched itself inside her ears, but it wasn't hers. Full of pain, agony, torment. A voice she adored hearing emitting a sound she never wanted to listen to again. But she couldn't escape it. The sound went through her brain, tearing it in half, moving down her neck, snapping it. To her shoulders, dislocating them, elbows bending the wrong way until they broke, her wrists and fingers smashed to bits. To her collarbone, which disintegrated, and to her ribs, shattering all of them. Her torso, ripping her organs, and crushing her hips. Her thigh bones destroyed, her knees cracked open, her legs split into halves, and to her ankles, then feet, fracturing both. Her heart, the only thing not consumed, was annihilated without a second for her to breathe.

The sound was her doom.

Her brain, the one that had betrayed her _yet again_ , shocked her awake. A sob tore at her throat, and she was finally free from the darkness, the blood, the screams, and could make her own sounds. The empty room echoed her sounds of distress as they taunted her, forcing her to hear her pathetic whimpers. The small, soothing hand that made circles on her cheek and rubbed her salty tears into her pale skin. She could feel the darkness of the room, almost a tangible object that wanted to strangle her, choke the life out of her body, leave her corpse lying in bed for the loving parents to find in the morning. Parents who didn't quite understand why their daughter was so upset. Parents that struggled to find a reason why she was weak, fragile, quick to tears and silent during the day. Parents who didn't understand why she broke down during the day, not seeing the blond mess of hair that she did, not seeing the perfect teeth and smile she did, not seeing the golden tan, not seeing the flash of green that sent her to her knees and cut off her air supply. They were still the ones who had to help her out of bed, make sure she ate during the day, made sure she moved around and stretched her limbs. They were the ones keeping her alive, and part of her wished the darkness would act, and ease everyone's suffering; her parents, her friends, her own, and maybe even the two little diets currently attempting to soothe her.

His ring sat on the ledge near her bed. The only voluntary movement she had made lately was attempting to repair the ring with the god's guidance whispered to her calmly as she struggled to follow their difficult and complicated instructions. It was all she could do to, her best attempt to keep him alive. The circling on her cheek slowed, matching the broken girls breathing as she decided to make an attempt to sit up. Her head spun, and the darkness seemed to swoop down, a harsh taunt as it showcased its abilities, it's willingness to end everything right here. A small touch on each hand shook the daze away, allowing her to find the small blue and green gazes of sorrow. She lightly grabbed the ring, feeling the weight of the corroded metal press into her palm, the corrosion flashing the horrifying view of destroyed flesh lying in shredded leather before her eyes. She blinked away the image and forced herself to grab onto the railing to her staircase.

Dizzying steps led her up to the balcony, the gods grips of her hands keeping her grounded in this world instead of falling into the hands of the darkness. The last stumble led her to the chaise, one that still had the imprints of a body stuck in it, one that wasn't hers. She could still see his cheeky grin, cat ears twitching with every sound she made, eyes glittering in the moonlight as he teased her, making the dumbest puns. If only the darkness was that enticing, she would gladly let it devour her.

Hesitantly, with looks of encouragement from the little red and black beings, she slipped the dull gray ring onto her finger. It was too big. Build for a person of larger, longer hands. Her tiny designer fingers were built for holding a pencil, a needle, a yo-yo. The ring would fit someone with fingers made for piano, fencing, basketball, staff wielding. Nevertheless, she wore it and called the commands, both beings swooping into the powerful items she wore on her being. A black and red suit covered her body, replacing the thin, grubby pajamas she unwillingly was forced to change out of every morning. The suit had leather covering her shoulders and back and chest, a zipper leading from her throat to her belly button. Her boots were also similar style to her old partners, and she forced herself to look away.

A light weight settled on her back, unfamiliar in touch but a view she had grown accustomed too. Her hand gripped the more familiar weapon at her side, and she gave it a few swings. The motion brought nausea and another memory, the one where she last used the yo-yo. Remembering Hawkmoth's screams made her regain her focus. Unfortunately, she needed more than that, and her grounding gods were no longer there to help.

The yo yo was gripped in her palm again, and she swung it, once, twice, three times before she tossed it into the air, thinking the command. The air flashed with light, and a red figure appeared on the balcony in front of her. Red skin, with spotted black clothing and a mask, the figure grinned, and Marinette found her eyes to be welled with tears. The darkness that had been surpassing around her being dissipated immediately, and it was all that simple. A quick grin, and the weight was gone.

The figure leaned casually on his staff, and with a wink he spoke, in a voice as clear as the silver ring used to be.

"Miss me, bugaboo?"


	2. Chapter 2

The ring was finally finished.

With the guidance of the small deities, she was able to acquire the metal she needed. A rare element only found in the deepest caves of China, it was something countless people lost their lives to find. The man she received it from had begged for mercy, shouting out information she didn't need. Illegal trafficking, the names and numbers of black-market dealers, special deals on the best ways to blackmail politicians. When he brought up secret intelligence about the students and faculty in Francois-Dupont High School, she dropped him.

His screams caused a shiver to run down the god's frail forms. " _You're supposed to be a hero!_ " He had shouted. " _You chase Akuma victims! Not criminals!"_

It had been centuries since their holders had done something as vile as this. Tikki didn't understand where this anger, this violent rage had come from. Marinette was never set on revenge, but that seemed to be the only thing driving her forward right now.

They had no power in stopping her. They didn't know how to console the girl, and that in itself was dangerous enough. Using the lucky charm normally wouldn't bring back a striking rendition of Chat Noir, but combined with the damaged ring, her power grew and she was able to do just that.

After seeing the Lucky Charm, Marinette had become obsessed with repairing the ring. The true reason was never spoken, but Plagg and Tikki had their suspicions. The powers of the combined Miraculouses were almost limitless, and had only been wielded a couple of times before. Everytime had ended in tragedy.

Marinette's parents were becoming increasingly concerned. She talked less than before, ate less, slept less, moved less. The only thing she did was fiddle with the new ring on her finger. The too-big ring, that looked like it had been lying in a river for the past few centuries. Tom had suggested they bring it to a jeweler to get it repaired, but Marinette's dark glare had silenced him.

Another thing they worried about: she had become so irritable that she snapped every time she opened her mouth. It always seemed to be a struggle, as if her lips were sewn together and she popped the stitches when she moved her mouth. She had paled, her hair losing its volume and her eyes sinking into her face with every passing day. Her parents attempted to bring her to a doctor, but she refused to move. They were still considering a therapist, but the action of moving her forcefully seemed to become less and less appealing. Though she seemed frail, Marinette was becoming stronger than she ever had been before.

The metal casing, to repair the ring, came from another man. This man was genuine, though his store sold false replicas of Miraculous jewelry pieces. Ladybug had appeared during the night, able to open the door with a flick of her hand, appearing inside and taking the casing they used to form the molten metal into a ring. Tikki strongly advised talking to him during the day, asking to borrow it, but Marinette ignored her. Plagg knew why. She couldn't talk to a stranger yet. She wasn't mentally stable enough for that.

Once the metal was molten, she poured it into the casing and over the ring. She sealed it and waited for the next instructions.

Tikki and Plagg moved forwards without a word. They channelled their energy into a bright ball of light before settling it down over the casing. A large hiss sounded, and the casing top popped off, revealing the newly repaired ring. Marinette picked it up, ignoring how it ignited her skin into pain, and slipped it on. She called the commands, and a large purple energy swirled around her. She glanced in the mirror, and looked away.

The new outfit was complete. She had a red torso, no more spots. The protective black leather covered her shoulders, top chest, and neck, sliding down her back, quads, and wrapping around her knees, leading to her feet in steel tipped boots. Her mask was fully black, though her eyes stayed the same as usual. Her hair was back in a tight knot, tied with a red ribbon. As she turned, she noticed the muscles directly underneath her shoulder blades were marked with two large red spots. An image flashed into her mind, a special species of ladybug that startled people who saw it.

Chilocorus stigma. _C. Stigma_. Twice-stabbed.

A fitting name. She remembered that stigma meant _a mark of disgrace_.

C. Stigma had been unleashed.

She walked out to her balcony, breathing in the cold air. The darkness was back, the night time feeling like a heavy blanket, weighing down on her, crushing her to the ground. It was a familiar feeling. She experienced it every second of her torturous existence.

She once again considered letting go, letting the darkness consume her, making life easier on every being she associated with, including herself. But that was no longer an option. She wasn't the weak girl she had been two weeks ago. She was C. Stigma. And C. Stigma had a purpose for existing.

She jumped into the air, letting the darkness part around her as her eyes narrowed in on the Agreste mansion. She grabbed for her yo yo and swung it forward, cutting through the air like a carving knife, moving silently, invisible to the human eye. Her nose picked up the smell of blood. It smelled sweet, reminding her of jokes and laughter and flirtatious attempts. Of loyalty and power and protective instincts. Another smell. This one neglectful, hateful, sour. Hawkmoth's blood. The smell brought a feeling she couldn't describe, something she didn't recognize.

 _Retribution_ , she realized.

She entered the broken window, seeing the familiar gashes stained with blood, the broken shackles lying in the middle of them. The room was clear of the decaying flesh, but the smell remained, along with the broken shards of glass and plaster. The shadows moved to her left, and she turned, seeing a tall figure holding a cane emerge from the darkness. She didn't move, but felt the hatred inside her build up, up, up.

He didn't say a word until she flicked her yo yo and it wrapped around his neck. His eyes widened as she unhooked her staff, _his_ staff, and used it to pin the man to the wall. She tightened the string, and his eyes bulged, the veins in his temples straining.

"Did you mourn?" She whispered, edging closer to the man. He gasped, but the sound he made was unintelligible.

"Do you know what I am now capable of?" She asked, flexing her fingers. The man didn't answer. His throat was turning red in the places the string squeezed, and the sour tang of his betrayal pierced the air. "Before this all happened, I was told that I have the power to change the present, future, and past. Is that why you wanted it so desperately? Is that why you decided it was worth murder? How _badly_ did you mess up that you needed to kill people in order to change what happened? I'd bet your life it wasn't as bad as what you did to fix it."

He was able to shake his head slightly, signalling that, _no, it wasn't as bad_. The gleam in his eye told her he would do it all over again.

"So I was right. I win that bet then." She yanked the string, and blood spurted onto her new mask. She extended the pole, and a loud crunching sound was heard, followed by the dripping sound of flesh and blood to the already stained floor. She released the pole and string, letting it hang off his now lifeless body, and turned around. She closed her eyes and released a sigh.

"See, now you've paid. Though I still think more suffering will come your way." She flicked her wrist, and a purple light burst into view. A swirling vortex appeared, and she stepped forwards.

"Oh, right." She turned around, facing the body still pinned to the wall. "You never deserved your son. He was a gift to this world, just as you were a blight on it. See you in hell." She walked into the vortex, and the world went black.

The darkness was back, but this time it didn't try to take her. It bowed as she traveled through time, parting as she walked through it.

She had become it's master.


End file.
